


Get Addicted To This

by hermette



Series: bb dom Spencer [1]
Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-04
Updated: 2011-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-22 05:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermette/pseuds/hermette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon wants to choke on Spencer's dick. Spencer is happy to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Addicted To This

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Inspiredlife for the speedy quick beta. Written for likeaglass's [Brendon's Pain Kink Pornathon](http://likeaglass.livejournal.com/36969.html) and originally posted there. Title from Fall Out Boy's Pavlove.
> 
> I'm just... out of shame, you guys.
> 
> (Also includes cockchoking, hairpulling, some D/s content, and asphyxiation and possibly underage, depending on where you live. Brendon and Spencer are seventeen in this.)

Spencer really wants to bind Brendon’s arms behind his back for this. He saw a picture once, it wasn’t even in porn, just on some sex toy website, of a guy with his arms bound behind his back, red ribbons winding from his wrists nearly up to his biceps, and Spencer thinks Brendon would look beautiful like that. Someday, he thinks, but for now he wants to know that Brendon can stop him, if he needs to. Spencer doesn’t trust himself yet.

“Like this, okay?” he says, showing Brendon how he can dig his nails into Spencer’s thigh if he needs to. “And I’ll stop, I swear to god.”

Brendon nods slowly, eyes already a little glazed and hooded. “But--”

“Yeah, no,” Spencer says. “We do it like this, or we don’t do it.”

“Can I,” Brendon slurs, like his tongue is thicker than he’s used to, like he can’t quite manage words or maybe like he just doesn’t want to. “Can I hold my hands behind my back? Like this?” He puts his arms behind his back and clasps his hands together, face tilted up for Spencer’s approval. “Spence?”

“Fuck,” Spencer swears. His cock jerks in his boxers. “Brendon, yeah.”

“Yeah,” Brendon echoes. He blinks, runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “Are you--”

“Just.” Spencer runs a shaky hand through his hair. “Just shut up, all right?”

Brendon closes his mouth with an audible snap, and Spencer shuts his eyes and tries to get himself under control. He has no idea how they got here - where and when they came up with the idea that Spencer should choke Brendon on his cock, but here they are, standing in middle of Brendon’s shithole of an apartment, stripped down to their boxers, talking about how Brendon should go about stopping Spencer from choking him to death.

Spencer maybe needs a minute.

“Brendon.”

“You’re being fucking stupid,” Brendon says. He reaches up and hooks his fingers in in the waistband of Spencer’s underwear. Without thinking, Spencer grabs a fistful of Brendon’s hair and yanks him back; Brendon moans, long and low and heartfelt, and oh, yeah, this is how they got here.

“You don’t touch me until I fucking tell you to,” Spencer snaps, twisting his fingers.

Brendon nods frantically and shoves his hands behind his back again. “Sorry,” he says, then winces. He shakes his hand, breath going heavier when the movement causes Spencer’s fingers to yank his head back.

“Yeah,” Spencer says, once Brendon has come back to himself, stilling under Spencer’s grip. He lets his grip go a little slack, but keeps his hand where it is so that he can direct Brendon’s movements. “Yeah, that’s good, Bren, that’s so fucking good.” His voice is shaking, but his hand is steady when he reaches down and shoves his boxers down his hips a little, just enough to get his dick and balls out. “C’mere.”

Brendon makes a low noise in his chest and shuffles forward on his knees, urged on by the hand Spencer has in his hair. He stops just short of taking Spencer’s dick in his mouth and glances up, eyes dark. White hot pride flares up Spencer’s spine.

“That’s good,” he says, stroking Brendon’s neck a little, taking his cock in his other hand and angling it toward Brendon’s face. There’s a little bead of precome there, and Spencer leans in a little so that he can use the head of his dick to smear it over Brendon’s bottom lip. “Lick your mouth for me. Get it wet.”

Brendon does it, licking his mouth messily. His tongue laps over the head of Spencer’s dick, making Spencer jerk back. He tightens his fist in Brendon’s hair and pulls him back and jesus, fuck, he has to stop himself from slapping Brendon across the face for that. What is the _matter_ with him?

“Bren.”

“Please,” Brendon says. His voice is so thin, strained. “Please, Spence.”

“Open up,” Spencer says, nudging his cock toward Brendon’s mouth. “Brendon, open your fucking mouth.”

The first push in is like, fucking hell, it’s like nothing else in the world, Spencer doesn’t understand why anyone every does anything else, ever. “Get it wet,” he says. “It’ll be easier if it’s wet.”

Brendon whines but pulls off so that he can spit on Spencer’s dick, then moves back in, shoving forward, but Spencer catches him with the fist at the back of his head, uses his other hand to slick his dick. He’s so fucking hard it _hurts_ , and he can’t stop himself fisting his cock once, twice, twisting hard over the base of it. God, he wants to _fuck_.

“Open,” he says. He’s done waiting. “Fucking open your mouth.”

Something changes in Brendon’s posture; he straightens up or goes lax, Spencer can’t tell, and it doesn’t really matter. All he knows is that Brendon feels right under his palm, that this feels right, the two of them together like this. He yanks on Brendon’s hair so that Brendon can feel the sting, and pushes into the soft, wet heat of Brendon’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Spencer moans. He pulls back and then pushes back in, fucking the head of his dick against the flat of Brendon’s tongue. He wants.. god, he _wants_. “Like this?” he says, catching a rhythm and fucking Brendon’s mouth with it. “Is this what you wanted?”

Brendon moans around Spencer’s dick in his mouth, tries to nod. Spencer wonders if Brendon’s dick is hard, if it’s messing up the inside of his underwear. He can’t wait to get his hands on it.

“Yeah?” he says, pulling Brendon down on his cock. “Like this?” He has to still his tongue, has to stop all the words that want to spill out, words like whore, like cocksucker and slut. He chokes them back and pulls Brendon’s mouth onto his dick. “Jesus, that feels so fucking...”

Their harsh breaths, the rattle of Brendon’s useless air conditioner fill the room. Spencer is panting, his breath high in his chest, listening to the wet, obscene sounds of his dick sliding into Brendon’s mouth. He palms Brendon’s cheek so that he feels the movement of it, presses his thumb to the corner of Brendon’s mouth to feel his dick slide in wetly. He can’t even put words to the things he wants.

“I’m going to do it now,” he rasps. “Stop me if... just...”

And with that, he shoves forward, shoves in, gets the length of his dick in Brendon’s mouth, down his throat, and Brendon... fuck, Brendon goes completely still under Spencer’s hands. He goes still and just take#s it.

Spencer has to grip the base of his dick to stop himself from coming down Brendon’s throat just like that. His balls are drawn up tight and aching, and he wants, he _wants_. Somehow, he finds it in himself to count off fifteen seconds, which is how long they agreed upon, and then he pulls Brendon off his cock.

Brendon sits back on his heels, gasping. His eyes are wet.

“Brendon,” Spencer whispers.

Brendon says, “again.” His voice is wrecked.

“Bren.”

“Again,” he says. “Please, Spence. I need...”

“Yeah,” Spencer says. “Yeah, okay.”

He gives Brendon a minute to catch his breath, and then he reaches for him again, threading both hands into the damp hair at the base of Brendon’s skull, and pulling him back on, working his dick into the soft, sucking heat of Brendon’s mouth. He doesn’t bother with any preliminaries this time, just shoves all the way down Brendon’s throat, just shoves in and holds and holds and holds.

Fifteen seconds pass and it’s not enough, not nearly enough for either of them, but Spencer doesn’t fucking _know_. He hates and loves the control of this, feels settled and unhinged all at once. He doesn’t understand why he wants this, but he does, and Brendon does too, and god, god.

“Again,” he rasps. “Brendon, again.”

Brendon whines and pitches forward in his haste to get Spencer’s dick back into his mouth. He doesn’t even try to steady himself, just jerks forward, so fucking eager that Spencer wants to cry. He wants to bite and push and slap, wants to imprint himself, wants to get so deep inside that he carves out a place for himself that no one else can ever touch.

“Mine, mine” he says, holding Brendon down, Brendon is letting him, he’s fucking _letting him_. “God, oh, god,”

When he pushes Brendon back this time there’s a thread of spit and precome trailing from Brendon’s mouth to the head of Spencer’s dick. Brendon chokes a little, face red, chest heaving, and Spencer comes.

“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, jerking his dick in his hand. It’s wet, so fucking wet from where Spencer had it shoved down Brendon’s goddamn throat, choking him on it. His spunk goes everywhere because he’s wild with it, and Brendon is trying to catch it in his mouth, but it paints his face instead, his cheeks, his lips, dripping down his chin like something filthy.

On his knees, Brendon is chanting, “come, come, wanna come, wanna come,” and Spencer doesn’t know what to do except drop to the floor and shove his hand into Brendon’s boxers. Brendon’s dick is so fucking wet, precome dripping everywhere, like, god, like he was getting off on it just as hard as Spencer was.

“Come on,” Spencer says, fisting Brendon’s cock. He has a passing thought that he should pause, should let Brendon pull his boxers down, but he wants to fucking ruin them. “Come on, Brendon, fucking come now, all over yourself, do it, do it.”

Brendon gasps, jerks in Spener’s grip and starts to come. He drops his head to Spencer’s neck and shudders against him, and Spencer grips Brendon’s hip, presses hard and hopes it bruises.


End file.
